C ain leads me to the end of the stage and starts browsing the song selection. He points at one of the sad songs sung by a duet, and I nod. I used to sing to it in the car—daydreaming about finding my true mate who would one day sing it with me. Before my life changed abruptly after actually meeting him, a dream turning into a nightmare.

He mind-links me, while grabbing my shoulders to lead me to the front of the stage, ‘Okay, listen to me. You will start singing, I have to hear you first, then I will join you, and we’ll sing the whole song simultaneously, just like in the original.’

I look at him dumbfounded.

“Can you do that for me?” he whispers, eyes boring into mine.

“I’m… yeah. Yes, Alpha.” I nod and turn around to the microphone and the touch screen. I start the song that Cain chose for us and close my eyes.

I don’t need to look at the lyrics. Or at the curious looks from everyone surprised by seeing Rogue Prince in full warrior gear, minus the cape, on a stage with me.

He does look like a rock star right now and it is kind of hot. Okay, very hot. Another reason to close my eyes.

I start softly singing the first verse and feel Cain pressing his belt-and-knives-covered torso against my partially exposed back.

He joins me in the next verse with this sexy, low voice of his, somehow perfectly matching mine.

There are some gasps, and I don’t blame them. I’m shocked too, but I don’t let it show. I have a contest to win.

I don’t open my eyes. I immerse myself in the moment, sing with him, be with him, feel with him. Line after line, his voice a perfect background to mine.

When the music ends, I open my eyes to a stunned audience. After a few seconds, everyone starts clapping and whistling.

“You’re welcome.” Cain kisses my cheek and takes off the stage with long, confident strides toward the purple armchair, where his cape and sword await.

I smile at everyone still applauding. But I imagine myself leaving this room, not caring about anyone inside of it, collapsing on the floor as soon as the doors close behind me—crying my guts out.

But I am a princess. I know how to suck my feelings up and pretend everything is fine—that I’m just this smart, but polite, nice girl. I trained for it my whole life. So, I take off the stage, moving toward the seats, too, actively choosing to feel empty. Anything else would break me.

Maybe I am already broken.

My dad sits down at my spot, shamelessly taking my mom on his lap, and they are not the only ones who start to look cozy.

I want to sit with my sister, Blake, she’s tiny, but Cain notices the direction I’m taking and calls me over with the commanding movement of his fingers.

Once again, I imagine running out of the room instead. That would mean death and I love my life too much for that. I’m stronger than that. I’m a Princess. I’m a royal alpha-blooded werewolf. I’m Rogue Fucking Prince’s wife!

I sit on his massive right thigh and pretend I listen to the lively discussion that is going on around me. I smile and nod. I answer eloquently when directly asked, share some of my wisdom when prompted, but it’s not me. Not really. It’s just my demo version, channeling my inner calm that doesn’t exist. I have to imagine it.

I notice everyone close to me looks at me relieved. Like they are thinking that’s the real me. It’s not. I am never more true to myself than when I am with Cain alone. Rage, passion and all.

I look at my smiling mom, and this weird sadness clamps my heart. I’m not a perfect Luna to all packs, Queen to all werewolves, or the best mother my future kids could ask for. I never will be. I just don’t have it in me.

Someone gives me a card to put down the name of tonight’s best singer, and I notice it’s my ex-maid. I try to smile at her but she’s too busy flirting with my husband.

For a moment I get this impulse to grab his dick and balls through the leather pants, and tell him I’m the only one who can use that. I ignore it though. I keep my chin up, mouth shut, and body intact. Because after a possessive comment in public like that, I would probably lose my hand quicker than the seer this morning.

I choke my feelings down and I shut my emotions off. Again.

I concentrate on writing Luna Maria’s name on the card. She was very good, and it is satisfying to vote fairly for someone other than my parents. Plus, she is married and mated to chauvinist Alpha Hiram, let her have one nice thing in life!

“Aren’t you a maid of my wife’s?” Cain’s husky voice makes me look up again.

Sarah, the maid, has enough decency to shoot me a nervous glance.

“Yes, your Highness. I was.”

“So, you know who to ask for access to my bed,” he growls at her, genuinely furious she had the guts to flirt with him in front of me, and I’m stunned.

It’s not like him! Is it?

Sarah's face goes bright red, and she quickly runs between chairs in embarrassment. She’s in such a rush that I’m sure if she didn’t have the balance of a werewolf she would tip half of them over.

“Excuse us, but that bed is waiting.”

He gets up with me, and everyone—except my parents—bows to us. To him .

“Don’t you want to stay to hear who won the competition?” my dad asks, after my mom clearly mind-links him .

“Tell us tomorrow,” Cain says bluntly and leads me out with his hand on my lower back.

The ballroom doors close behind us, muting the party.

“You can sing,” I say with an empty voice, standing where I was supposed to fall on the floor to cry my guts out.

It hurts. I feel inconceivable pain deep inside my core.

But I am not alone. There are two strong arms not letting me fall, and sweet lips helping me forget.

I grab Cain's face, his trimmed beard pricking my fingers, and I deepen the kiss. I don’t want to think about anything, I just want to feel his lips on me. Drink him in. He tightens his arms around my waist and lifts me from the floor—our tongues dancing, breath catching, my legs wrapping around his hips. My hands start exploring his distinctive jawline, shaved back and sides of his head, and silky black hair on top.

We are kissing as if our lives depend on it, and maybe they do. Mine does for sure.

Before I know it, another door slams behind us, and I’m being roughly laid down on the bed. We are in the Gray Room again. Cain’s mouth moves to my jaw and neck, and his hands move to my slightly parted legs—yanking the dress up to my waist. He rises up to look down at my exposed pussy, biting his lower lip.

He keeps staring at the same spot with lust in his eyes while taking off his knives, but he doesn’t bother to undress. I feel entranced, so I don’t move. I just look at his handsome face, beautiful skin, and chiseled-by-the-Goddess body. He kneels before the bed, still in his leather pants and belts crossing his chest. He pulls me closer by my calves harshly and dives his head between my thighs like a starving man.

I close my eyes and give in to the physical sensations of the hot tongue on my clitoris. I put my legs on Cain’s shoulders, my high heels resting on his back. He chuckles in my folds, and I arch my back from the vibrating sensation. I love his laugh. He slips his rough hands under my dress, around my thin waist, and starts sucking at my clit .

I moan and writhe under his touch but it all abruptly stops too soon. I open my eyes, and I lift myself on my elbows, panting.

He’s by the dresser and makes something rustle. I’m still getting used to seeing his tattooed arm.

“Cain?”

“Yes, little wolf?” He finally turns to me and opens a condom packet with his teeth. I lower my gaze at the bulge in his pants.

He pulls his pants slightly down to free his throbbing erection, and slips the condom on. Then steps to the bed, and I can’t help but scoot back at the thought of that big thing going inside of me—which is ridiculous when it’s not our first time, so I laugh nervously. He arches his brows at me while stroking himself lazily.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you are really big.”

“And you are all wet and will take me so well,” he says like a porno star.

I open my legs wide for him, while another nervous laugh leaves my lips, like all coherent thoughts leave my brain. I’m slightly embarrassed by how fricking much his dirty talk makes me stupid and willing.

“Good girl.”

Wow . I swear I felt my clit throb at his husky voice just now.

Cain doesn’t waste any more time and grabs me by my hips to plunge his cock deep inside of me. I moan with overwhelming pleasure, but he captures my lips with his, so it’s muffled.

He thrusts hard, but painfully slow, and I quickly come undone under him. He puts pressure with his fingers on my clitoris and I scream his name and ‘Yes!’ again and again—until I finally finish riding off the rippling pleasure of the longest climax I ever felt. He stills with a groan and collapses onto me.

I lightly push on his heavy body, and he gets off of me. As soon as he disposes of the condom, he pulls me closer and cages me in his arms. We are both hot and sticky after this quick passionate session, panting lightly .

“I like your natural hair color,” he mumbles into my temporarily pink waves and starts to breathe heavily shortly after.

Because that’s what Moon Goddess chose for you , I think bitterly.

The post-coital haze finally subdues, and the void-like pain returns to my chest. I start sobbing, and Cain pulls me closer to himself as if he wants to comfort me even in his sleep. I can’t stand this monster being so sweet to me! I cover my mouth to suppress a wail.

I’m being woken up by soft kisses traveling down the side of my neck. I open my eyes wide at that weirdly intimate moment with Rogue Prince. The subject of yesterday’s anxiety comes back with full force, but I try to anchor myself with slow breathing.

We lay on our sides—Cain’s front is pressed to my back with his arm tightly wrapped around my waist, and I gently move my ass away from his impressive morning boner. Or regular boner, he is awake after all and does like my ass, doesn’t he?

“Am I making you uncomfortable, little wolf?” he asks with a chuckle, and pulls me back close to him. Then takes his hand from my waist and slips it between his hard dick and my ass to respect my silent wish.

“No, it’s just…” I almost say I’m not in the mood, but the truth is, I wouldn’t deny him if he is. I wasn’t exactly in the mood yesterday either, but the second he started kissing me, he helped me forget and I loved every second of it.

It isn’t a mood problem right now. I just feel… numb.

He must sense something is wrong because he grabs my face and turns it toward him. There is no sign of his signature smirk.

“You were crying, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” I say with a blank voice and a hint of a polite smile—trying not to break under his fucking caring gaze, that I don’t understand at all.

“No, don’t do this princess bullshit with me. I don’t like it when you are not yourself. It’s enough that I had to endure this demo version of you half of yesterday evening.”

He saw right through me when my family didn’t? He doesn’t like it when I’m not myself? What the actual fuck?!

“You can’t act like that,” I whisper, pleadingly.

“Like what?” he questions with his usual unbothered husky voice, but his gaze is still caring and that breaks something in me.

“All loving and caring and good. You are not good, Cain. You are not good. And I don’t want to—” my voice cracks under the weight of my pent-up emotions, “I’m supposed to respectfully hate you, and you can’t… You can’t get a tattoo of my wolf, draw my face from a memory of our wedding, or be ready to wear a fucking suit for me. You can’t have my back, unprompted, in my family affairs. You can’t fucking sing with me like that! You just can’t. You mess with my head. I don’t want to… I don’t—"

“You don’t want to what, Ash? Fall in love with someone like me?” he asks, clutching my chin even harder; I start feeling his protruded claws on my skin.

“I can’t fall in love with you, and I don’t get why you would even want that,” I hiss, prying his fingers off my face, “This is just a political union and convenient sex, that’s all.”

He smacks his full lips with annoyance. Or… hurt?

The pain I feel makes me realize he's not broken. He never was. I am.

“If you say so,” he gets up, still in his pants, and starts attaching his knives back to the cross-body brown leather straps he never took off.

I look at him taken aback, until I realize he has every intention of getting out of this room as soon as he finishes gathering his things. Our duffel bag is half-packed and he’s already attaching his fur cape.

“What are you doing? Cain!” I stand up and almost trip on my abandoned-at-night high-heels.

“What? Do you want one last fuck?” he grabs me by my throat with his left hand, and traps me between his massive body and the cold glass wall of the shower room.

He is pressed to me so tightly, I can barely stick my hands between me and his abs in a feeble attempt of pushing him away.

I feel his free right hand roaming my body, fumbling with my dress, pushing it away, while I can’t do anything about it. He pulls my left thigh up roughly and slips his hand under before I can put it back down. His fingers reach between my legs, and immediately, he goes rigid.

“You are wet and ready for me even now,” he says surprised, and lets me go.

He steps back, confirming his sinister intentions. He never planned to make me have sex with him. He just wanted to scare me.

Well, if his dangerous attitude was ever enough to scare me off, I would still be a virgin.

I smirk at him with self-hate, “I’m your wife, and I like sex with you.”

“Of course you do,” my biggest enemy smirks back coldly, grabs the duffle bag, and slams the door after him.

I should be relieved, but I slide down the wall and break into tears again, questioning everything.

All I know is this pain and doubt in my own sanity… I feel so broken and confused. All these things that suddenly happened to me the past few weeks, completely turning my life upside down, are now crashing down on me with full force.

I have no idea how much time goes by before the doors open again, and I look up with hope. Maybe he changed his mind? Please…

My parents enter the room, and I break down again, ugly crying.

“Do you want to tell me why the hell Rogue Prince was compelled to tell me you are not getting a divorce? So the alliance is technically still valid for the time being? What’s going on?” my dad looks down at me .

My mom shoots him a scolding look and helps me get up. “He just rode off on his bike.”

I choke on a sob.